


Feeling Smooth

by caterin



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-20
Updated: 2016-09-20
Packaged: 2018-08-16 08:24:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8094991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caterin/pseuds/caterin
Summary: I thought that gas canister maybe contained some sort of muscle relaxant where you literally relax to death and stop breathing. Just. Bang! Fssssshhhhhh. Slow, agonising asphyxiation. I may have pissed myself slightly when Baby Boy said he couldn't stand. Pants? Wet.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This fanwork is about the aftermath of being affected by a drug that causes loss of muscular control and which also causes severe mood-alteration e.g. elation, overconfidence. All of this happens while the character is in a safe, secure environment.

Peter sank to his knees unsteadily, and then onto his hands. His knees felt tingling and weak, like he was experiencing an adrenaline rush. They were irresistibly bending of their own accord, and once he had started collapsing downwards, he couldn't stop. His arms bent at the elbow, first one arm and then the other, until his forehead was resting on the gritty floor. Peter wasn't breathing hard but he could hear his breath echoing in his ears. He seemed to stay like that for a long while until he heard someone calling his name.

"Peter!" There was the sound of rapidly advancing footsteps that skidded to a halt beside him. "Petey!"

Peter scraped his forehead against the ground as he slowly turned his head to the side. Wade was already kneeling down beside him and glancing him over. "Hey, Wade."

"Petey, how you doing? You doing okay? Everything all right?"

"Wade, I can't stand up." Saying it aloud made it kind of frightening. Peter's heart beat a little faster in his chest, just enough to be uncomfortable.

"Alright, I'll help you. Heeere we go," Wade leant down and lifted Peter up and back until he sat on his haunches. Wade's arm rested across Peter's back as a bar for Peter to lean against, and without it Peter felt that he would have just continued to lean backwards and sprawled over. The thought of lying on the dirty ground wasn't as gross or concerning to him as it should be.

"Ups-a-daisy," Wade muttered to himself as, together, he and Peter tried to stand up. Mostly it was Wade hauling Peter up; Peter was conscious that his legs were still not obeying him and he wasn't supporting any of his weight. His arm was held around Wade's shoulders and his body weight dragged painfully on it.

"Wade, Wade, I can't," Peter murmured, his sentence fading off into breathy exhalation.

"That's okay, baby boy!" Wade was as perky as ever. "I'll just have to carry you." With minimum effort, Wade stooped and caught his other arm under Peter's weak knees, lifting him easily. Peter didn't think he felt tired, but when his head came to rest on Wade's chest, he closed his eyes and stayed there. His headspace felt full of lulling static. As far as his brain was concerned, there were no ingoing or outgoing impulses or messages it should be attending to.

"Peteyyyy," Wade sang. "Peterrrr. Come on, Petey. I need you to stay awake. Can you keep your head up for me, mmm? Peter?"

Peter tried to lift his head up to answer Wade. He couldn't. He was aware from the jolting that Wade was moving at a fast jog. "'M awake," he told Wade, then repeated it louder to be heard over Wade's constant verbal prodding.

"Okay, and? What's your name?"

"Wade, shut up," Peter replied. He rolled his face against the red leather of Wade's suit. Wade's bodyheat was palpable through it and Peter pressed his face into it. Continuing along what seemed to be the same line of thought as telling Wade to shut up, Peter told Wade, "I really like you."

"Good. I know. We've been over this," Wade told him not unkindly.

"I really like you," Peter affirmed again. He felt filled with affection for Wade right now. What he had been poring over for the last two months seemed to just come out of him in a natural confession, "Wade, I've, I've been thinking of having sex with you."

"Peter, I appreciate it but I think they hit you with something. I'm gonna get you back to Dr. Green And Mean and you're gonna feel better, 'kay?"

"Okay, but this isn't. This isn't like the. I've been thinking about sex with you before this," Peter insisted loudly. He tried to lift his head up a second time. It worked for a second but his head rolled itself back to one side. "I feel really weird," Peter announced.

He felt Wade come to a halt. "You gonna throw up?" Wade asked him seriously. Before Peter could answer, he felt himself being lowered to the ground where he could sit with his back against a wall, and Peter felt Wade's fingers rolling up his mask until his nose and mouth were uncovered. Wade crouched by his side and gently leaned Peter forward.

"No, no, I'm fine," Peter told him. He opened his eyes for the first time since Wade had picked him up and looked at Wade crouching beside him. Wade's scrutiny didn't make him feel embarrassed or self-conscious. He didn't feel afraid of feeling anything about what he had just said. He thought he could announce it on the team's comms channel and he still wouldn't feel anything.

"Okay, but tell me if you are going to throw up. Throwing up in your mask is awful, double awful when you can't support your head by yourself," Wade's advice sounded earnest and possibly first-hand. He clasped Peter's shoulder.

"'M not gonna throw up," Peter repeated. He did, however, list to the right and start to slide down the wall. Wade caught him and pulled him in to lean against him.

"Wade---" Peter began.

"Peter, I'm going to be open after this to talk about whatever you want. But right now, we just confirmed this area as clear of enemies and until they double-confirm it, I really want to get you somewhere the others are. We will have all the time in the world to talk about anything you want once we get this out of your system. I promise."

"I'm just, I'm not embarrassed to say it. I don't feel worried about anything right now, you know? And I want to tell you. I do, I want you to know. Before I stop feeling this way."

Wade's hand rubbed Peter's bicep soothingly. "I understand. I'm just worried you're going to feel a teeny bit embarrassed about all this when you get better." Wade's hand disappeared momentarily while he said 'teeny' and Peter belatedly realised that Wade was probably making a gesture he couldn't see. "Or that you may announce something in front of, ahem, everyone else that you might not want to announce."

"You're very tall," Peter said. He realised it was a non sequitur, but he felt confident that Wade would follow. Or not. He also felt that he didn't mind if Wade didn't follow. "Not really muscular but. Really nice and tall. Kind of a lightweight superhero."

"Oh. Oh, I see how it is," the white eye-marks on Deadpool's mask were almost definitely narrowing right now, Peter guessed. "'You're very tall, Deadpool, just, you know, not muscular.' Well I'm sorry that I'm not Captain America. I'll have you know that bara is a very niche preference and superheroes give unrealistic expectations of body image."

Wade's irateness was very funny. Peter began to smile. "I like your tallness. It's attracting. Attractive. You're very attractive."

"We're getting you to Bruce now," Wade told him seriously.


End file.
